Breakup formula
W. Manggaejjitteok
- Please be informed in advance.
The depiction of kissing is provocative, but it doesn't cross the line. Children, the faint of heart, or anyone who can't handle it are advised to skip this episode.
I was twenty. That day, the sudden separation came. I went to the funeral dressed in black, and there you were, sitting in mourning clothes, staring into space. Your lips were dry and cracked, as if you hadn't had a sip of water since the service began. You hadn't slept properly, as the skin under your eyes was dark.
You looked terribly sad. This was the day you hated me so much that you always wished I would die.It was my mother's funeral.
“Hey, heroine, I’m out.”
You lowered your gaze only after saying you were here, and smiled the moment you met me. But why, that smile seemed so sad.
“Eat first. What’s with your face?”
“…I can’t eat.”
"It's times like these that you need to eat well." I said, even handing her a spoon. The freshly boiled yukgaejang and the freshly made rice were piping hot, steaming hot. Seeing her still hesitant to take the spoon to her bowl, I took out another spoon, scooped up some rice, and let my breath cool it. When the steam from her breath had finally dissipated, I held the spoon out to her lips.
“Eat well, and I’ll take care of you.”
“… …”
Your eyes fluttered at the words, "I'll see you off." It seemed as if you were trying to say, "I don't mean to see you off, that's not what I meant." The woman, sensing my feelings, couldn't easily open her mouth. I snatched the spoon from her hand and placed the rice spoon in her hand, saying,
"I know. I know how you feel. So, you don't have to try to say it."
A tremble formed in Yeoju's mouth. It was incredibly pitiful to see her desperately trying to hold back tears. Well, I'm not in a position to sympathize with anyone. From then on, Yeoju's hands began to move busily. The spoon she was slowly bringing to her mouth felt more like she was shoving something in, trying to block something out than eating. And that something trying to block something out... must be sadness. It must be hard to admit. The person you hated and loathed so much has died, and sadness overwhelms you more than joy. I didn't stop Yeoju. It wasn't even my feeling, so what right did I have to block it? Instead of offering conventional comfort, I offered my own comfort by handing her a glass of water, its clear, sloshing water.
“… …”
Even after that, I stayed by Yeoju's side until the funeral was over. Yeoju had told me she could go home, but would that be as easy as I'd hoped? I could clearly see Yeoju's concerns about the inconvenience, but I tried to ignore them. Right now, I just didn't want to leave Yeoju alone.
As expected, no one came to the funeral. But that wasn't to say there weren't any visitors at all. The only people who did occasionally show up were women wearing elaborate makeup and draped in designer goods. Yeoju said they were the bar girls her mother had worked with. Yeoju seemed grateful, though. Even if she hated them, a mother is still a mother. She looked relieved she wasn't alone. Even that, they had come to Yeoju to swear at the deceased.
“You look just like your mom, don’t you?
“He also carries around a handsome man next to him.”
The woman spoke, chewing gum. It was obvious to anyone that she was linking herself to her dead mother and cursing her, but you remained silent, staring at the ground. Finally, I couldn't stand it any longer, and was about to speak up, when the woman's hand grabbed my wrist and stopped me. I saw your face at that moment.I see you biting your teeth.
“That’s too bad.”
"…her,"
I blinked slowly. I wondered. Was it anger at the woman who had cursed my biological mother? Or was it anger at my own mother, who had subjected me to such treatment even after death? You refused to back down and stepped forward. No, it would be more accurate to say you "tried" not to be humble. You smiled, the corners of your mouth curling up as high as they could.
“But. It seems like my mom stole a man.
“When I see people coming to the funeral and doing this.”
"what?…"
“It’s really unfortunate… That’s an inferiority complex.
“Having a face is a talent, so who can blame someone who doesn’t have talent?”
The woman's face, reeking of a strong perfume, flushed with a tinge of anger, as if those words were truly true. I knew. Those words were the last shred of pride the heroine could muster. She was trying to preserve even the last bit of pride that remained, like dirt on her toenails.
Crack, ㅡ
The trembling figure was unsettling, but then a sharp, ear-piercing sound finally rang out. A hand, painted bright red manicure, was raised high toward the ceiling, and a red line was drawn across her pale cheek, as if scratched. Finally, fresh, crimson blood began to seep from her cheek.
"Are you old and crazy? Where did you get the chance to strike someone so carelessly?"
“… …”
The woman continued to spout out lies right up until the last moment of her departure. She claimed the fox gave birth to a nine-tailed fox. Like mother, like daughter. She even mixed in some unacceptable language, and the female protagonist listened patiently to the harsh words. It was as if she were reminded of the reason for her existence.
Eventually, the woman got drunk and left. Meanwhile, your legs, which had been holding you steady, gave out, and you collapsed. I held your shoulders to prevent you from getting hurt, but your shock didn't seem to subside easily, and eventually, the tears you'd been holding back flowed down your clear cheeks. That was the beginning, the beginning.Your drinking habit of starting to cry as soon as you drink.
* * *
“…Sigh, I’m going crazy.”
In the end, it was I who carried you in, drunk. I don't know how you knew where I had moved into recently, but since you were lying in front of my house, shouldn't I bring you in anyway? ... Even though we broke up, we weren't strangers. I could see your eyelashes fluttering above your closed eyes. You were so damn pretty then, and you are so annoying now... I couldn't help but sigh. I pulled the blanket over you, laid you on the bed, and covered you again up to your neck before I could breathe again.
“Ha… why are you doing this?”
I sat with my back against the wall, looking straight ahead, then at the sleeping heroine lying on the bed. I glanced back and forth, then ran my hand through my hair and tilted my head back. Five years had already passed since we broke up. It was already disconcerting to suddenly see you, but to think I'd see you drunk again. I thought that day would be the last time I'd see you.
“Let’s break up.”
“Well… I guess so.”
But to see you again like this? How flustered I was when we first met. Even from afar, I could see your flustered expression. I tried to act calm, but I was equally flustered.
“But you… are you crying today too?”
Leaning on the bed, using my arms as support, I began to carefully examine the face of my ex-girlfriend, whom I hadn't seen in five years. Nothing had changed—not her eyes, nose, or mouth. But when I finally met her, I felt she had changed significantly. Unlike five years ago, when she seemed always impatient, busy living day to day. Perhaps it was because she had matured, or perhaps it was because she seemed more relaxed... She seemed much more composed.
You were so bright, but maybe the dark events made you calm... I felt sorry for you. There's no way you'd only seen good things in the five years since we broke up. Even I, with my strong mentality, had fallen apart several times during those five years. So, there's no way you could have been okay. My eyes, which had been closed, slowly opened.
“Close your eyes again. Don’t open them.”
“… …”
"…hurry."
“Jungkook…”
"why."
Every time I closed and opened my eyes, my eyelashes fluttered. You just stared for a long time, saying nothing. I sighed inwardly. "Well, then." Thinking, "What kind of conversation would you have with a drunk person?" I reached out and covered her eyes. I wished she'd just go to sleep. Talking would be a problem. What would I do if I woke up the next day? I'd been like that for a short while. You grabbed my hand and pulled me toward you, and I fell helplessly on top of you.
“Hey, are you crazy…huh?”
I barely managed to prop myself up next to the heroine's head with my arm, asking her if she was crazy, but she simply blinked, seemingly unfazed. If anyone else had seen me, it would have been easy to mistake my position for me pummeling her. It was my house, so that wouldn't happen, but I absolutely loathe such misunderstandings, so I quickly tried to straighten up. At that moment, you were there, wrapping your arms around my neck.
“…Hey, let go of this.”
"…no."
“You’ll regret this tomorrow. So, let this go…”
“…I don’t regret it.”
I don't regret it, what the hell. I tried to pull my hand away by wrapping it around your neck. You were so strong, you wouldn't budge. I couldn't even exert any force, for fear of hurting you.
It was a problem. I'd even give in to a woman I'd regret tomorrow. But the bigger problem was me, the one who felt like I was going to lose my mind. Sleeping with my ex-girlfriend, whom I hadn't seen at work in five years. This was absolutely unacceptable. Barely regaining my composure, I spoke in a harsh, low voice, unlike before.
“…Let go, before I get really angry.”
“… …”
“Can’t you hear me? Put this down.”
“…Ugh… Ugh, bad guy…”
As you burst into tears again, I unconsciously grabbed the bed sheets beneath me. Who is driving you crazy? I whispered softly once more. “Let go.” It doesn’t matter if you’re scared. I just need to get out of this situation. Your movements slowed down even further. You’re scared. I thought that was a relief. That was when your face suddenly came closer.
I didn't have time to stop it. I froze, watching your face, which was getting closer and closer. I was so shocked. The kiss we had after five years was so sticky, it was almost lewd. Until five years ago, I didn't think kissing was lewd, but maybe it's because I've gotten older, or maybe it's because I've gotten more skilled, but now I've reached a point where even kissing feels lewd.
Something soft and moist inevitably entered my mouth. Something hot… It had been so long. I hadn't seen another woman since breaking up with Yeoju. Since I hadn't met a woman, it had naturally been five years since we last kissed. Finally, I let go of my ties to reason, grabbed the back of your neck, and began to devour your lips wetly. Once we started, there was no stopping the kiss. It was long, and your breathing became ragged. Only after a long time had passed, you, out of breath, pushed against my chest.
“…Haa, haa… Jungkook…”
“I told you I regret it.”
Pushed away for a moment, I approached again, biting my lower lip and squealing. And then, keeping my eyes fixed on you, the face I was looking at… Your eyes wide open, your heavy breathing, was enough to stimulate my desire.
“So, you should have listened when I told you not to do it. It’s annoying people.”
“…It’s okay. So, continue…”
The heroine, whose lips were closing in, muttered between her lips every time they parted. It was a shallow voice that sounded like a mirage and then quickly vanished.
“…It’s okay, it’s just a dream anyway.”
It was the most pleasant dream in the world.